


Language of Flowers

by Cygfa



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Recovery, post-s2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 02:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21091916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygfa/pseuds/Cygfa
Summary: When he comes over for dinner, Hugh spots something in Paul's quarters that reminds him of the start of their relationship.





	Language of Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aphelyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aphelyon/gifts).

> For the "Recovery" prompt for Culmets Celebration Week 2019.

“Is that….,” Hugh drops his hand without touching the petals and turns to look at Paul who has frozen in mid-movement himself. A sad almost smile edges itself onto his face.  
“It’s not.” There’s a slight hesitation in Paul’s voice. Then he puts down the knife he had been holding, it clangs against the plate, and walks over to Hugh. “Or not entirely,” he says, picking up the pot. “I….it wasn’t doing well…after…” his lips twitched and he shrugged apologetically, still having a hard time naming what had happened to Hugh, something that Hugh understood, now. “Well, none of them were, so for a while I had all the orchids from the garden in here. Once it was better, I put them back. But….I missed this one, so I got a small cutting to put here.”  
Paul runs a finger down one of the petals, then he shrugs and puts the pot back down.  
Hugh swallows around a lump in his throat and slowly, carefully, reaches for Paul, who looks small, suddenly, in a way that Hugh hasn’t seen in a while. Not since they’re very first talks after Paul had been released from sickbay.  
Paul looks back at him at the touch of Hugh’s hand on his shoulder and tries for another smile. It’s wobbly, but it’s there for a moment.  
“I…,” Hugh stops, not sure what to say, how to say what he thinks he wants to say, what he’s been thinking about for a while now. So instead he lets his hand trail down Paul’s arm and takes his hand. “I’m glad it survived.” The words feel strangely empty, to little, too flat. But Paul nods, abruptly and then turns towards the table. But he doesn’t let go of Hugh’s hand.  
“Do you….”  
“We should….”  
They both stumble over the words and then chuckle. Hugh nods towards the table and they finish setting out the dishes and settle down for dinner.  
They slowly move into conversation again, exchanging details about their day, plans for an upcoming day off, and other updates. From time to time, Hugh glances back towards the orchid, standing serenely on its shelf behind Paul.  
Once Paul had been released from sickbay, they had started meeting for lunch or dinner in the mess hall. At first, when Paul had still been recovering, it had been a way for Hugh to get a look at him and see how he was doing – a circumstance they hadn’t discussed but had both been aware of. On the few days that Hugh hadn’t been able to make it because they had had to deal with emergencies in sickbay, casualties left from the fight against Control that had turned critical or injuries incurred during away missions sent out to get a feeling for their new time, he had called Paul or dropped by his quarters.  
But he had never seen the orchid. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen it right after his return, either. But then…..he had been too far inside his own head to see a lot of things.  
He looks at the flower again and then back at Paul and remembers.

_He had had a long week, staying on one of the smaller colony planets close to his posting and helping with an outbreak of a particularly nasty viral infection . The disease mostly affected children and it had been tough to see so many of them struggle against it. They hadn’t lost any, thankfully, but he had slept little and worried more, and when his shuttle docked at the Station again, he felt ready to drop. He wasn’t quite sure how he made it to his quarters, but eventually he stumbled through the door and straight into the shower, letting his clothes drop where he stood instead of placing them into the refresher._  
_He only noticed the blinking shipping container on his desk when he stepped out of the shower and he was almost too tired to open it. But he hadn’t expected a delivery. His birthday was months away and his parents had sent one of their regular small packages only two weeks before. He picked up the container, turning it around for any obvious signs of a sender, but it was a standard, small shipping cylinder, dark grey, with a blinking light at the top that let him know that it hadn’t been opened by anyone yet. He sat down with it at the edge of his bed and touched the seal. It clicked open after scanning his thumbprint and he opened the lid at the top end, only to find another container inside. He touched it. Glass. Smooth to the touch. But there’s also a small handle that he can lift up to pull it out of the box. For a moment, he just sat and blinked at the stasis container that is revealed._  
_An orchid._  
_It contained an orchid._  
_“Masdevallia. This one has settled in really well.” It was as if he was standing next to him._  
_Still staring at the wide, bright pink blossoms, he blindly reached for his personal PADD on his bedside table and sure enough, there was a new video message waiting for him. Well, really, there were several, but this was the only one he was interested in. He clicked play and Paul’s face appeared on his screen._  
_“Hey! If I’m not wrong, you should be back today, at least I hope so. I tried to time the delivery for your return. I thought….you liked the Masdevallia so much when you were visiting, I thought you might want one. It might brighten up your quarters a little – Starfleet probably doesn’t win prizes for its interior design….”_  
_Hugh chuckled at that and then he had to rewind to hear the rest of Paul’s message._  
_“…well, anyway. I hope you like it. I’m sending instructions with a separate message.”_  
_The message stopped on a frame of Paul smiling into the camera and Hugh stared at it for a moment, before he remembered that he was still holding the plant. He twisted and then lifted off the lid of the stasis container. The orchid was in a white ceramic pot that made a soft thud when he placed it onto his nightstand. After he had crawled fully up onto the bed and settled back against his pillows, he picked up his PADD again and clicked “record.”  
“Hey Paul. So I just got home…”_

Hugh blinks, returning back to the present moment. There’s no question that this memory is his. It’s clear and sharp and makes him feel warm inside and almost as if he’s floating. He realizes that Paul is looking at him, his eyebrows raised.  
“Sorry. I…” he puts down his fork and looks back up at Paul. “Do you remember that first time I visited you on Deneva,” he suddenly asks and Paul blinks, before nodding.  
“How could I forget,” a smile spreads on his face and Hugh finds himself returning it.  
“I was so excited on my way to the planet,” he begins, “I don’t think I ever told you, but I was really nervous. And then there you were, exactly as blunt and honest, and handsome as ever.”  
Paul almost looks as if he wants to protest, but he closes his mouth again and Hugh continues.  
“You were also a really thoughtful host. I probably gained several pounds during that visit because of all the food you made.” Hugh’s smile widens and then he glances at the orchid behind Paul again. “I remember the tour of your biodome you took me on on that first evening, as the sun was slowly going down outside.”  
“And you listened to me ramble on and on about all the different plants,” Paul continues. “Until we came around a corner and you spotted our Masdevallia and just stopped right there.”  
“I did, didn’t I?” Hugh laughs softly. “It was beautiful. I’d never seen one of them. Not even in my Mom’s garden.” Hugh knows that Paul knows this, he told him back then. But that’s not the point. “And you not only sent me one, you also planted all these orchids in that secluded spot in the mycelial garden once we were on the ship.” Hugh’s eyes glitter and he blinks rapidly a few times. Unspoken between them hang the words _Because you know how much I like them._  
They look at each other for a long moment, both smiling shakily, and something soft, something that had been there before this moment, carefully stretching and growing back after the events of the last few months, blooms, fiercely and insistently.  
“I think….” Hugh says, looking from Paul to the orchid and back. And finally he has the words for something he’s been thinking about saying for the past few weeks. “I’d like seeing it again every day. If you….if you’ll have me back here?”  
Paul stares at him, his lip quivering. Then he swallowed. “I’d…yes…if…if you’re sure?”  
Hugh reaches for Paul’s hand and squeezes it. He glances back at the orchid and smiles. “I’m sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many, many thanks go to Aphelyon, who is a terrific friend and listens to all my random Culmets ramblings. He also came up with the idea of Paul planting orchids in the mycelial garden because Hugh loves them so much and kindly allowed me to use it here.
> 
> And for those who are wondering, this is the kind of orchid Paul gave to Hugh: http://www.aos.org/orchids/culture-sheets/masdevallia.aspx


End file.
